


The Importance of Things

by CrossroadAvarice



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Gen, M/M, it's 6:08pm and an echo of my emotional state earlier today, snufkin and moomintroll are so good and pure pls my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18737215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossroadAvarice/pseuds/CrossroadAvarice
Summary: A moomin, a mumrik, and the importance of things.





	The Importance of Things

**Author's Note:**

> anyways helow im crying i would die for Snufkin and Moomin k thanks that's all bye

  
The first time it happens, it's on accident.  
It happens as he's cleaning out his backpack, as he tends to do every now and then to make sure that nothing's missing and to take note of what he needs to restock on. The standard mess of supplies tumble out -- the beaten metal bowls, cutlery, various other things -- and then, a shell. It hits one of the bowls with a metallic _tink_ and grabs his attention as he reaches for it and examines it. "How did you get in there?"  
The shell doesn't answer. It can't, of course, and it takes several long moments for the memory to come to him -- of a day spent at the beach, sand clinging to his boots and his hands, of laughing with the only creature he's ever met to make him laugh like _that_ (near doubled over, breathless) -- Moomintroll. It'd been a lull in the conversation and activities when the shell had been placed in his lap and he'd looked up, confused, as Moomintroll scratched the back of his head.  
 _"Something to remind you of the beach," he had mumbled, "I don't--I don't know if you see the sea when you leave us, but--"_  
"It's lovely," Snufkin cut in, "thank-you."  
He places everything back in his backpack, careful to keep the shell from getting crushed.  
From then on, however, it's intentional. He takes care to note everything that Moomintroll gives him -- a feather from a bird, a particularly curiously shaped rock, more shells -- for someone who's never seen the point of sentiment in keepsakes, he can't bring himself to throw away anything. They're important, because _Moomintroll_ gave them to him, and they _mean something._  
He begins doing the same somewhere down the road, looking at things with the intention of finding something to bring back to Moominvalley, something that catches his interest and makes him think _Moomintroll would like this_ , and then it stays safe in his backpack until he's crossing that familiar bridge, at ease with his most treasured friend.  
He wonders what Moomintroll does with the things he gives him, the little trinkets, the baubles -- and then he happens to be invited up to Moomintroll's room at one point, and he sees it. It's a space of shelf, carefully cleared of clutter with everything that he's bought in the last few years neatly arranged.  
"Oh that," Moomintroll says when he notices Snufkin's attention elsewhere, his voice and expression flustered, "I--I wanted to make sure you knew I was taking good care of them. I mean, they're special, you know. S-since you got them for me."  
Snufkin thinks of his backpack, of the shells, feathers, rocks so carefully packed away, and he smiles.  
"I understand."


End file.
